


Wants

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>come out come out whoever you are!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wants

## Wants

by Shedoc

I don't own nothing - don't sue

this is a follow on from needs, and has not been beta'd. thanks to everyone who gae me feedback on the first one!

there's another gay couple at the pd! (but you'll have to read it to find out who) and the violence comes from blair owwies and some crooked cops

This story is a sequel to: Needs 

* * *

_Chapter One - In which things start off well._

Jim's senses were awash in pleasure. His body thrummed and pulsed in the skilled hands of his lover, making him tremble and moan in desire. He could smell Blair's voice and taste his touch as the sensations peaked and dipped at his Guide's will. The scent of Blair's skin resonated like a profound bass throughout his body as his husband stroked, rubbed and thrust into him. His voice rippled in the air before pleasure dazed eyes, the colours merging into a beautiful kaleidoscope. Unable to distinguish where his body ended and Blair's began, Jim let the sensations wash over him, carrying him away to be shattered in climax again and again under his lover's tender care. 

Blair eased from Jim's body carefully and gasped for air. He ran a hand gently over Jim's hip, grounding his zoned and dazed Sentinel as the man surfed the sensations that were still humming through his very sated body. Once he'd recovered a little Blair set about cleaning their bodies enough for sleep, listening to the whimpers of pleasure his lover was still making and not surprised that he came again when Blair touched his pucker with the wash cloth. Jim's joy at finally being touched there - where he needed it most - had not diminished one iota. 

Dropping the cloth on the railing, Blair scooted up to sit against the headboard. They'd turned the heat in the loft up before coming to bed, so it was warm enough for the usually cold anthropologist to sit in bed naked. 

"Beloved," Blair crooned softly, "Come here to me." 

Jim turned over blindly, seeking the lap that was waiting and curling up with little sighs and grunts. His senses wouldn't really settle for a while now, and if Blair were to avoid a zone that would undo all the benefits of the sex they'd just had he would have to sit guard tonight. That was a labor of love that Blair delighted over, no matter how remorseful Jim got over his Guide's loss of sleep. His hands went to Jim's hair, stroking and smoothing lightly while Jim's arms wound around his waist and thighs. He smiled when the Sentinel cuddled in and nuzzled the muscled flesh - reassuring him, perhaps, that his Guide was close and safe. 

The afterglow was calling, and Blair tipped his head back to relax a little, enjoying the intimacy and letting his mind drift even as his hands continued their petting. In the streets outside the city hummed to its night rhythm, the occasional siren punctuating the tapestry of sound. Stars could be seen through the skylight and Blair regarded them drowsily, picking out familiar patterns and making up a few as well. 

Jim was a warm, inert weight against him and Blair looked down at his lover, tracing the familiar contours of bone and muscle. He couldn't see the other man's face, though his breath teased Blair's thighs with soothing regularity. It took a lot for Jim to trust him enough to relax into their lovemaking this way. Blair had worked hard to engage all his senses and was rewarded by complete and utter faith. 

They had learned a lot about each other since becoming lovers. Jim had discovered a few fantasies he hadn't known about. He'd also discovered that Blair was surprisingly knowledgeable when it came to potential mood killers. Given the former Ranger's past Blair refused to restrain his Beloved with anything except his hands and Jim had to acknowledge the sense in that - the last thing they needed was to trigger a flashback. 

It had been difficult for both men at first to conceal their new status from their work mates. Terrified that his Beloved would become the victim of homophobic cops Blair had pleaded hard against coming out at work, and eventually Jim had reluctantly agreed. Unfortunately, Jim had become obsessed about not touching his husband in public - convinced that he'd give something away by doing so. Blair had also argued against being excluded from Jim's personal space, but Simon had clinched it, pulling Jim aside and urging the detective to make up whatever argument the two men had had, and get back to normal. 

Some hard thought had revealed to Jim just how much he touched his Guide before they'd become lovers and he'd managed to return to some level of public intimacy. Blair had been aware of how difficult this was for Jim and had said nothing, merely returning the touches and grinning conspiratorially at his partner. Jim had been too happy to have their daily 'rations' of touch restored to care too much about the whys and hows of it all. 

In the field they were tighter than ever. The physical intimacy they now shared had boosted their ability to predict and anticipate each other's moves and intentions. Simon had complained more than once that having a conversation with the two of them was like talking to a demented ventriloquist - they finished each others sentences and had little side conversations with each other at the same time. The rest of the bullpen treated the phenomenon as further proof of the much-deserved title of 'premier team' and left it at that. If anyone did wonder about the status of their relationship at home they did it where neither man could hear it - quite a feat in Jim's case. 

Dawn tinged the sky above Blair's head and he sighed in contentment. Jim was a relaxed bundle of muscle in his lap and the sense of righteousness this left with Blair was powerful. His hands were still tracing random patterns over hair and skin, pampering his Beloved and reassuring his internal Guide that his life mate was secure and well. 

* * *

Jim woke slowly. For a moment he couldn't recall where he was as his body told him that he was warm, safe and well used. Sunlight was caressing his naked skin and a much-loved scent had woven itself around him like a net. Then the hairiness of the thighs under his cheek tickled him and the hands that caressed him with such tender care reminded him where he was. Blair's lap was warm, and his hands spoke so loudly of their love that for a moment all Jim could do was bask in a kind of astonished delight. He had once confided to his husband that he felt Blair would be better off with a younger, more intelligent model - and then walked funny for the rest of the weekend when Blair's response to that had been marathon sex. 

Taking a deep breath, Jim kissed the skin closest to him and smiled, letting his lips curl against the warm flesh. The hands deepened their contact for a moment, but Blair didn't say anything to him, letting him drowse a moment longer before disturbing their peace with words. Jim stirred his body lazily, stretching his legs and back before curling back into the warm spot on the sheets. By rights he should have stiffened up after lying in one position all night, but he rarely did after this kind of sex - Blair's touch was better than any massage. 

Before either man could say anything, or Jim could follow the plan that was forming in his mind, the phone rang - it's strident tones jarring them back to the real world. Blair sighed, leaned over and kissed Jim lightly. 

"I love you," the Guide smiled and then wriggled out of his Sentinel's arms neatly, running naked down the stairs to silence the offending instrument. Jim followed a little more slowly, stretching again in contentment as he paused on the stairs to admire the trim, taut body. 

"Sandburg," the voice was clear and light - announcing that the owner had been awake, "No, Simon, he's awake too. Just a minute." 

Jim took the phone with a sigh and cleared his throat. 

"Good morning Simon," he said, his hearing picking up the sounds of sirens and voices yelling. Blair was already headed back up the stairs - probably to dress. Banishing his regrets that all of that beautiful skin was about to be hidden, Jim paid attention to the phone again. 

"Jim, we have a situation here," his boss sounded stressed, "A bunch of armed men have stormed the 15th Precinct and barricaded themselves in the holding cells." 

"Jesus - who did they arrest last night?" Jim leapt to conclusions, "Is anyone hurt?" 

"We've got men down - and one dead," Simon's voice was leaden, "All the other Precincts are on full alert and Central has been assigned as backup for the 15th. You and Sandburg need to get down here - I'd feel a lot better if you were here." 

Blair returned with a set of clothes for Jim, which he deposited on the table and started dressing his partner, starting with the boxers and socks. 

"Where do you want us?" Jim acknowledged, lifting his feet as directed. Another voice sounded near Simon and the phone was muffled for a moment. Jim took the opportunity to snatch a kiss from Blair and pull the T-shirt over his head. 

"Come to the Command post," Simon's voice returned, "I'll tell you more when you get here. Make sure you and Sandburg both wear the PD's windbreakers and have your badges visible. Full vests, too. I don't want any mistakes here, tempers are high enough as it is." 

"Got it," Jim nodded and they hung up, "Wear your badge out Chief, and grab the windbreakers from the closet. It's bad." 

Jim put on and tied his boots while Blair hurried into the small room that had once been his. He emerged wearing the uniform jacket and tying his hair back, Jim's jacket tied hurriedly around his waist so he could have both hands free. The badge - ordered especially by the Chief's office for the civilian consultant - dangled on a chain around his neck. His partner nodded in approval and untied the jacket from his waist. Jim leant in and stole a kiss. 

"I love you too," he smiled at the shorter man, "Let's go. And be careful, Chief - this isn't gonna be pretty." 

* * *

Simon was waiting for them, with Rafe and Brown nearby. Everyone was wearing vests and caps that announced who they belonged to, as well as the PD windbreakers. No one wanted to take the chance that friendly fire would hit them. Jim had supervised the donning of Blair's vest, though Blair had been just as vigilant over his partner. 

"Hey, Hairboy. Maybe you should sit this one out," Henri Brown said softly, "No one wants to see you get hurt again." 

"I'll stay out of the live action," Blair had already promised this is in the truck, "I'm a part of the team, H. I don't pick and choose my assignments." 

"I appreciate that, babe," Henri nodded, "It's not gonna be pretty. Word is a few of the guys in the 15th busted a gang for drugs - and their comrades want them released. They're accusing the arresting officers of planting the evidence and brutality during the arrest." 

"Which gang is it?" Blair asked, looking over at the sprawled red brick building that housed the 15th Precinct. 

"The Chrysanthemum's," Henri shook his head, and Blair exclaimed in surprise. The 'Mums were one of the few gangs that stayed clear of drugs. In fact any member found using or even in possession of illicit substances was kicked out of the gang immediately. Despite this rather strange stance, the Chrysanthemum's were not a soft gang. They had no trouble with violent crimes, robbery being a specialty. 

"They're not into drugs! What's going on?" Blair looked over at his partner, who was conferring with Simon and the SWAT team leader about possible breaches. There were a number of cops still trapped inside the building - when it had gone into lockdown several departments had barricaded themselves in and called for backup. There were also a few civilians inside - something that was no doubt weighing heavily on the Chief's mind as he struggled to keep the media feeding frenzy under control. 

"Who knows? This is gonna be dogging our heels for months babe, so watch your back ok?" Henri warned and Blair nodded acknowledgement. Brian Rafe appeared beside them, looking over at Jim and Simon in concern and then down at their favorite 'mascot'. 

"You wearing your vest, Prof.?" Rafe asked quietly and Blair nodded. Once he would have rolled his eyes and complained about them being overprotective and mother hen's to boot. Now he knew that it was one of the ways they relieved their stress - when going into a dangerous situation sometimes it was good to fuss over a colleagues safety first. Let them get into the right frame of mind. 

"Clean underwear too," he confirmed in a light tone, a standard response. They knew he saw through their motives - and were all too glad to let him tease them about it. Rafe snorted now while his partner rolled his eyes and cuffed the curly haired man's shoulder lightly. Jim joined them beside the wall where they were sheltering from a nasty cool wind and line-of-sight. 

"Hey, Jim. What's the word?" Henri grinned up at the tall detective. Jim's grim expression lightened for a moment in that look he got when meeting his colleagues from work for the first time in a day. Blair wasn't sure if Jim knew he was doing it, but he'd observed the positive way that their colleagues reacted to that gentle 'glad to see you' look. 

"We need intelligence," Jim sighed. 

"Hey don't look at me - I'm all tapped out," Rafe held up his hands and grinned a little, "My brain doesn't come on line until nine at the earliest." 

"That's nine p.m., right partner?" Henri grinned too and Blair chuckled, shaking his head at them. Both men were college graduates - most of the people in Major Crimes were. 

"Good thing Sandburg's here," Rafe ignored his partner with the ease of long practice, "He is a Ph.D. and all." 

"Yup," Jim glommed his chuckling Guide and headed for a vantage point he'd spotted earlier, snagging the surveillance kit that Simon had put together after their discussion. There was even a parabolic mike in there, with a tape recorder back up that they could 'jam' if they had to - sometimes the mikes just couldn't pick up what Jim could. The pair mostly used Jim's senses to do the real observing - the kit was just there to cover his back in court. Simon and Blair had come up with the idea not long after Blair got his doctorate - and then the young man had apologized to Jim for not thinking of it sooner. The kit would be seen as a violation of rights without a warrant in everyday situations, but came handy in an emergency. 

The two men made their way onto the roof of a nearby store - one of the older buildings that was built with a low wall running around it. It was the same height as the PD building and allowed Jim to confirm that the roof of the PD was free of snipers. Apart from the maintenance hatches up there to allow access to the cooling towers and ventilation system the roof was void of clutter. Simon and the SWAT people were trying to work out the logistics of getting an armed party onto the roof and into the building. 

Settling so they were out of the line of fire and still in a plausible spot for the mike to catch snatches of the conversation inside the building, Blair put out a hand to ground his Sentinel and started to talk. 

"Ok, Jim, I want you to focus your hearing first. We're going into a difficult situation here - there's going to be no warning if they start raising the noise level. I want you to focus nice and tight on your hearing - put a box around everything but that sense so if it spikes the box will protect your other senses. Let your hearing just brush past the walls and into the building. Hear what's going on without listening to it. Find the noisier places where the most voices are and tune into what they're saying." 

Jim's head dipped to the side in the classic 'listening' pose he had developed unconsciously and tuned in on the yelling gang members as they tried to find another way out of the building. 

* * *

_Chapter Two - In which it hits the fan and then the boys._

"Chief - will that thing really jam, or can we actually get it to work?" Jim asked suddenly, turning to look down at their tape recorder. 

"It should work," Blair frowned, "I'm supposed to jam it manually." 

Anticipating what Jim wanted, the consultant was setting the gear up as he spoke, slipping a fresh tape in and starting the machine before handing it over to Jim and donning the earphones. Now that they wanted it to work, Jim would actually direct the mike while Blair confirmed that he could hear what was being recorded. It saved Jim getting a weird echo effect that usually gave him a headache. 

After a few moments of hissing and random feedback, Blair nodded sharply and settled in to ground Jim with random strokes on his back while both men listened to the two cops arguing over whose fault it was for planting the drugs so sloppily. It made Blair sick to think that one man had already died as a result of this foolishness. Beside him, Jim was a furious presence. The detective valued truth and loyalty above all else. 

"Jim," Blair murmured softly, "Can we identify them?" 

Jim nodded and then turned his hearing back to the gangs, muting the mike for a second. The two men had fallen quiet anyway when a noise nearby had alerted them to company. 

"Uh oh, they found the sewer access in the basement. We'll have to cover the exits and tunnels," Jim warned his partner. Neither man had thought about what they would do with the tape when this mess was over - though they'd be sure to tell Simon about it at the very least. 

"Can we get that on the mike too?" Blair asked quickly and Jim shook his head. Blair fished for his cell phone and called Simon. The two bent cops had relaxed their watch and gone back to laying the blame, so Jim was recording again too. Blair moved back a little to avoid messing up the tape with his voice or phone signal. 

"It's me," he identified himself, "Are the sewers covered? They can get out that way through a basement access. It's in their area - Jim remembered it from the post Kincaide briefings. Uh, we can't right now - we've got a little situation here. No we don't need backup. Thanks Simon." 

He hung up and looked over at his husband, worry clearly showing in his eyes. 

"Simon's going to report your 'hunch' and get the exits covered," he told the taller man, "Jim, what are we going to do?" 

"We can't sit on this Chief. Their stupidity cost lives. Not to mention violating those gang member's rights. No Judge would convict them now. We'll put the tape in Simon's hands and follow it through. It won't be easy, buddy - no one likes a snitch." 

"No one likes a crooked cop either," Blair sighed, "It's got to be done Jim." 

Neither man acknowledged the loving caress the other gave him, in order not to cloud the issue by declaring their love where the mike might pick it up. The two way in Jim's pocket came alive as the cops corralled and subdued the fleeing gang members. Jim turned the volume down so it wouldn't swamp the tape and finished recording the conversation, sick to his stomach as he did. 

The idea that his fellow cops could be so stupid as to plant drugs on a member of a gang that was known for abhorring drugs was eating at him. The 15th Precinct was a rough area and the cops here had to deal with a high volume of calls each day, but that was no excuse. 

A chill ran down Jim's back as a second though occurred to him. Perhaps these two men were merely trying to take out a potential rival. It wouldn't be the first time someone decided to sell what they were supposed to be fighting against. Jim glanced at his husband and decided not to mention that idea yet. It was best that Blair be as innocent as possible here - perhaps that would take some of the coming heat off. 

* * *

Simon listened to the tape grimly and scowled up at his best partnership. They were supposed to be catching criminals, dammit, not other cops. Jim Ellison's face was grim too and Blair's usual energy was muted. 

"Damn," Simon sighed at the end of it, "You two never go the easy route, do you?" 

"It's in our contract," the weak joke didn't bring a smile from anyone - Blair's voice was too bleak for that. There was a moment of silence and then Simon nodded. He reached for his phone and called Internal Affairs, requesting an appointment for himself and Detective Ellison. By unspoken agreement, Blair was left out of it - both men wanting to protect their civilian colleague. Blair's frown told them he wasn't happy with that, but he let them go alone, wandering out of Simon's office to get started on the inevitable pile of paperwork on his and Jim's desk. 

"Hey Hairboy," Brown wandered past, "You seen the Captain?" 

"Yeah, he had a meeting to go to. He'll be a while," Blair looked up. Brown paused beside his friend's desk and looked the curly haired man over. 

"You ok?" Brown frowned, "You look like someone backed over your dog." 

"Someone kind of did," Blair sighed, "I can't discuss it, H. Not right at the moment. You'll probably hear all about it sooner or later." 

"Sounds bad, kid. You need someone to watch your back, let me know. I'll send Rafe," Brown grinned at his friend's incredulous groan and headed over to his own partner. He dapper detective was scowling at his monitor and muttering under his breath. 

"Heads up, babe," H murmured as he sat down, "Ellison and Sandburg are in it again." 

Rafe looked over at his partner and then at the bullpen in general. He nodded once and went back to trying to retrieve the file he'd just lost. 

* * *

Jim sighed and rolled his shoulders under the talented hands. He was all but purring and Blair hid a smile, loving the playful antics of his mate. He let the massage stray a little lower, shifting back down along Jim's naked body, leaning forward to kiss the warm skin. He was rewarded with a little moan and wriggle from the sensual man. 

The meeting with Internal Affairs had been unpleasant to say the least. Both Jim and Simon had been thoroughly interrogated - almost as if they were the criminals, not the men on the tape. A mountain of paperwork and a second interrogation by another member of IA had followed this. By then both men had been thoroughly fed up with it all and their answers had been short, sharp and to the point. 

Meanwhile, the PD rumor mill had been working it's usual magic and Blair had heard some rumblings about their time on the roof - enough for him to know that the men in the 15th Precinct would probably be covering their asses and soon. He'd called Jim on the cell and the Sentinel had gone ballistic. Worried that his partner would be vulnerable - after all, their quarry were cops and had total access to the bullpen - Jim had ordered Blair home. 

The consultant had not gone. He refused point blank to run as if he'd done something wrong and hung up on his enraged partner. The Detective gave IA short shrift and headed back to the bullpen, followed closely by Simon. Blair had already set up a duplicate file of their findings and inserted a copy of the tape that he'd made while they were playing it for Simon. The file went to H, to be locked in the safe at his house. Major Crimes had learned not to rely on anyone outside the department - all too often their cases were politically sensitive or of interest to the Feds, whose penchant for cover-ups was well known. 

They had fought over Blair's refusal to go home in the truck - neither man was afraid to express their opinion and becoming lovers hadn't changed that. If anything they had become more open with each other. In the end Blair agreed that he should have at least taken some extra precautions and Jim acknowledged that running away like a guilty man would undermine Blair's place in the PD. By the time they got home Jim was one big walking knot of tension - hence the massage after dinner. 

Blair finished with Jim's calves and traveled lightly up the other man's body, kissing as he did. A kiss to his buttocks had Jim making a sleepy little sound that went right to his husband's heart. Blair dropped a second kiss there then traveled up Jim's spine. He dropped a final kiss on Jim's temple and watched his Beloved slip into sleep. When he was sure Jim would stay asleep, Blair covered the man and padded downstairs to set up his laptop. His career with the PD had not interfered with his article writing and Blair had a deadline to meet. 

* * *

Jim looked around the rooftop and frowned. Blair's hand was lodged in the small of his back and his senses were working full time as he swept the area. 

"Anything?" Blair whispered, a little nervous at being too close to the edge. Jim was nervous too - fine tension tightened the muscles under Blair's hand. 

"Nothing. What the hell is Block doing?" Jim mumbled. Block was a usually reliable snitch. Jim didn't deal with him often as the man moved on the fringe of things in downtown Cascade. He'd contacted Jim with a request to meet, and Jim had agreed - hence their visit to the windy rooftop. They were only three stories up, but that was enough to tweak Blair's fear of heights a little. This late in the afternoon, traffic was loud and the sun was at a bad angle, rendering the Sentinel's fine sight down to normal levels. 

"I don't like this," Jim shifted uneasily, "Let's go Chief. Block can set up a second meeting if it's so urgent, one on the ground." 

Blair nodded and walked with Jim back to the fire escape they'd climbed to get to the roof. Jim sent his lover first, knowing that Blair would be better once he was on the ground. His partner was not fooled: the man grinned and made some stupid comment about Jim just wanting a soft mattress to land on if he slipped when the first bullet caught him in the lower leg. Jim felt a searing pain in his arm as he lunged for and missed the flailing hand of his husband. Blair's terrified scream deafened Jim as the smaller man went over the edge of the fire escape. Jim hit the rooftop among a spray of bullets and pulled himself into shelter. He yanked his gun and phone, scanning frantically for the shooter and hitting the number for Simon at the same time. His hearing refused to locate Blair's precious heartbeat and his sight zoomed in and out, effectively blinding him. Unable to function, Jim began to hyperventilate as the phone rang and rang. 

"Banks!" the over loud gruff bark was never more welcome to Jim's sensitive ear. 

"Simon! Oh God, Simon they shot him and he fell! He fell off the fucking building!" 

"Jim? Who's been shot? Where are you?" Simon's voice slapped a bit of sense into him and Jim gulped for air. 

"Meeting with Block - they shot Blair. He went over the edge of the roof and I can't find him - I can't hear him, oh God Simon, he's dead, he can't be." 

"Brown! Rafe! Look on Sandburg's desk for a notation about a snitch called Block - they're in trouble and Jim's lost it! Shots fired!" Simon roared, making Jim flinch away from the volume. He flinched back into cover when whoever it was took another shot at him. 

"This guy sucks," Jim giggled, "He keeps missing. Maybe I should just stand up and tell him not to bother. With Blair gone I'm dead anyway." 

"You will do no such thing Ellison! You hear me? Keep your fucking head down until I get there! That's an order!" the harsh words cut the giggles off sharply and Jim sobbed instead. Hot and cold flashes raced along his skin and somewhere nearby something started whining at an uncomfortably high pitch. 

"They killed my Blair!" he wailed, his head swimming dizzily, "They killed my heart!" 

"Jim, I'm coming to get you. Stay exactly where you are and don't move," Simon's voice cut through the despair like a knife, "Were you hit as well? Jim? Were you hit?" 

"I don't..." Jim sniffled, "I don't want to live alone again. I can't, Simon. I'm so tired of being by myself. So tired..." 

The phone fell to the rooftop with a clatter as Jim passed out from blood loss. 

* * *

_Chapter Three - In which things hit rock bottom._

The waiting room was full. Brown and Rafe were camped out by the window, sitting side by side and not talking much. Taggert was leaning against the wall, a cup of cold coffee in his hand as he watched Simon pace back and forth on the ugly linoleum. Various men and women from the uniformed branch of the service who had responded to the 'officers down' call were parked in chairs around the room, speaking to each other in low voices. 

No one would forget the scene they came upon. The shooter was long gone, although there were enough slugs around Jim Ellison's unconscious body as evidence. That had not been found first though. Their first sight had been Blair Sandburg, hanging upside down from the final landing of the fire escape, one leg tangled in the metal framework, halting his headlong fall, the other bleeding from the gunshot wound. His hands were dangling limply above his head and he was bone white. At first they had believed him dead, but a touch to those cold hands had elicited a moan of pain and the emergency service workers had leapt into action to stabilize the young man. They still didn't know the full extent of his injuries - visions of paralysis were dancing in Simon's head. 

Unable to use the external fire escape to get to the silent Jim, Simon had broken a window in the warehouse and climbed up to the second floor before going out onto the fire escape again and racing for the roof. Jim's upper arm was bleeding heavily where the bullet had gone straight through it. The man was in shock and deeply unconscious. The paramedics that had followed Simon moved quickly to stop the bleeding and warm their patient. Simon scouted for access back inside the building so they could carry Jim down that way. 

There was a stir in the room as a doctor appeared and Simon braced himself for news. He hurried forward as the doctor called his name, Joel a comforting presence at his side. 

"How are my men?" Simon's voice was tense and the doctor knew better than to start with the usual platitudes. 

"Mr. Sandburg is still in surgery - I have no news of his progress or the extent of his injuries. Detective Ellison is conscious again and still in shock. He refuses to be admitted. The wound to his arm is not serious - the bullet passed through cleanly - and the blood loss has been remedied with a transfusion. He's very distraught, however, and if you can persuade him to stay overnight..." 

"I'll try, doc, but Jim's not likely to go for it. Sandburg's the only one who can get through to him in this state," Simon sighed. The doctor hesitated and then spoke again. 

"Unfortunately that's the problem. It seems that Detective Ellison believes his lover is dead and I am unable to convince him otherwise," the doctor's voice carried clearly to the waiting cops and Simon bit down on a curse. He knew that the two men were together, though unofficially, the rest of the PD did not. He heard his colleagues react to the doctor's indiscretion and glared at the man. The doctor led the way in silence. 

* * *

Simon didn't need directions to find Jim, the plaintive voice calling for Blair would have led him straight to his friend. Jim's face lit up with hope when Simon entered, then crumbled in denial. He was pale, and the blanket they'd draped over his legs was twisted and tangled, trapping him in the bed better than any restraints could. 

"No Simon," Jim moaned, "Please, no. Don't." 

Simon had spent enough time with the Sentinel and Guide to know that Jim was lost in his senses. The man's control was nonexistent in reaction to the shock and whatever drugs the doctors had given him. Without his Guide to tame the raging confusion Jim was at the mercy of his environment. Add to that the stress of believing his Guide to be dead, and there was no way for the Sentinel to gain control on his own. Simon knew that Blair used his body heat and personal scent in situations like this to give his partner a stable base to latch on to. The Captain hoped that he'd spent enough time with his friends for what he was about to try to work. 

"Shh, Jim," Simon leaned over and gathered his friend up. He pulled the large man upright with a grunt and settled the Sentinel's head on his shoulder, holding the cold, shaking body to his chest. Making sure the IV line wasn't tangled and the wounded arm was comfortable, Simon rocked a little, trying to lend his warmth and strength to the shattered man on the bed. 

"Blair," Jim wept, "I want my husband." 

"Shh," Simon repeated, "It's ok. He's in surgery, the doctors are looking after him now. Be strong, Jim. It's ok." 

The sobs died away slowly and Simon kept his grip on his detective. They'd lose Jim if his husband died, either to his own weapon or the man would simply fail to wake up one day. Simon was determined not to bury either man, and was praying hard for that outcome. 

The doctor entered and checked his patient as best he could while the man was snuggled up to Simon's chest. Pleased that the injured man had settled down he made a few notes and then looked over at Simon. 

"We have a bed ready for him upstairs," the doctor announced. Jim stiffened immediately and Simon patted his back in a soothing fashion. Thankfully his detective was warming up and calming down - Blair must have managed to install Simon as a 'substitute Guide' for Jim at some point. 

"Not staying. Must be here for Blair," Jim growled, "Simon? Don't make me stay." 

"Jim, he's not coming back to the ER," Simon reasoned, "Once he's out of surgery they'll be putting him in his own room. He'll probably sleep until tomorrow - he'll need you then. If you go to bed now, you'll be fit for him in the morning. I'll stay with you until he's ready, ok?" 

"He needs me," Jim insisted stubbornly. Simon sighed and squeezed Jim lightly. There was a small relaxing of the tense muscles and Jim leaned in again, letting instinct guide him. 

"Yes, he does. He needs you at your best. Get some rest, Jim. They'll let you sleep here and you can go in the morning. I promise." 

Jim nodded reluctantly and the doctor went to organize the move upstairs. Joel stuck his head around the curtain and Simon explained what was going on. It looked as if Jim wouldn't be letting go any time soon, so Joel agreed to send everyone else home and then come up to Jim's room. It took a few minutes to get Jim to lie down again and let them wheel him out of the cubicle. 

Simon held his detective's hand all the way to the room and into bed. Jim went to sleep not long after, and Simon looked up wearily when the door opened. Joel entered, followed by Rafe and Brown. The three men had brought extra chairs and settled into them quietly. The message was clear - Jim and Blair's new status made no difference to their real friends. 

Once Jim relaxed enough to let go of his boss, Joel produced a pack of cards and the four men played poker quietly. Nurses entered every four hours to do their thing and Simon went out after a while to get an update on Sandburg. He was still alive, and out of surgery. The damage to his legs was serious, though incredibly he'd suffered no obvious spinal damage. They now had to wait for him to wake up to find out how bad things were. 

Jim woke at about eight, sitting upright with a gasp and looking around wildly. He'd regained some color and his face was coherent. 

"Easy Jim," Simon frowned, "You'll open the stitches on your arm." 

"How's Blair?" Jim demanded, hitting the button for the nurse. 

"He came out of surgery fine. He's still sedated and in the orthopedics ward. I went and saw him an hour ago myself - he's ok," Simon replied firmly, "Now lie down. Let us get the doctor to have a look at you so you can be discharged." 

"You guys stayed all night? Who's watching Blair?" Jim settled back onto the bed obediently. The nurse had come and gone - on her way to fetch the doctor. 

"Crawford and Thompson," Rafe replied, "And there's a uniform outside the door. We've got him covered." 

"Babe," Brown met his partner's eye for a moment, "There's something you should know. You were pretty out of it when you woke up and you told the doctors about your relationship with Blair. One of them kind of let it slip in the waiting room." 

"We've been outed?" Jim paled, "Oh god. Blair's gonna kill me." 

This was not the reaction the men from Major Crimes were expecting and they looked their confusion at Jim. 

"I wanted to come out straight away," Jim explained, "But Blair was worried it would put me in danger. I guess he's heard too many stories about backup going missing. I didn't want to lie to you guys about it. I'm not ashamed. Neither is Blair." 

"Jim, you only have to look at the two of you to see you are together," Brown grinned, "I guess now it's kind of official." 

"I can understand Blair's reluctance, though," Joel said quietly, "He worries about you Jim." 

"It's mutual," Jim sighed, and turned to talk to his doctor. 

* * *

Blair's doctor was a petite brunette with hazel eyes and an attitude that made her seem a lot taller. Dr Belle was pleased to meet Jim and more than willing to sit down and explain the extent of his husband's injuries. Dressed in the clothes that Simon had gone to the loft for, Jim was back on balance and more controlled. 

"On the whole, he's been incredibly lucky. He apparently hit the fire escape a couple of times on the way down - there's some severe bruising on his abdomen and back, but he'll recover from that. The internal damage wasn't severe either - more as a result of the bruising and didn't require surgical intervention. We're also not too worried about the gunshot wound," Belle told him, "That went straight through cleanly, and though it's painful it will heal just fine. It's his right leg that has us concerned. He broke his ankle when he hit the fire escape the first time, and then dislocated his knee when he got entangled the second time. He was hanging from that knee when the medics got there, so the joint was out of place and under stress for a long time. There is some tearing in the ligaments and tendons, and some nerve damage as well. He may be able to recover enough mobility in that leg to walk without assistance. That's the worst case scenario. Best case: he'll recover enough to live his normal active lifestyle, provided he takes a few daily precautions. However, I'm afraid his days with the PD are over - he'll never recover enough to meet the physical requirements of the field." 

"Oh God," Jim sighed, and hung his head. If his Guide couldn't come into the field with him then his days in the PD were also over. He didn't want to work without his soul mate. He wouldn't risk others in the field with unstable senses. He was never leaving his heart behind again. 

"What do we have to do, and when can I see him?" Jim squared his shoulders. 

"Right now, all we can do is let him wake properly from the surgery and reassure him that he'll be ok. He was able to move the toes in his left foot on request when he woke in recovery - but he was too groggy to focus on the right. We'll have to test that later. Once he's had a chance to heal a little we'll start therapy and determine what he'll need. It will be very rough on him, Detective. You'll need to keep his spirits up and also keep him in line - I have no doubt that his will to live will translate to some very stubborn behavior when the drugs wear off and he's hurting. You'll also need to watch for depression. I realize this might not be something you would normally associate with Mr. Sandburg, but a loss of mobility, however small, can have serious side effects on a person's mental state." 

"I understand," Jim nodded, thinking how hard enforced idleness was on his energetic lover, "Can I see him?" 

"Of course," Belle smiled. She led the way from the small room used to interview patient's families and down the hall to his husband's room. It was a private room, and Jim nodded to the uniformed cop standing outside it. Blair's doctor hadn't questioned the need for his presence and Jim was grateful. He didn't want to think about whoever had set them up now. 

Crawford and Thompson slipped out without being noticed as all of Jim's senses glommed onto his pale Guide. The scent of pain lingered in the air, fouling Blair's own beautiful scent. His love was breathing easily, though an oxygen canula was hooked beneath his nose. IV's ran into the back of one hand and a catheter snaked from between his legs. The left was heavily bandaged and slightly elevated on a pillow. The right was in traction. Jim didn't notice as the doctor left discreetly, closing the door behind her. 

Jim fondled the limp curls on the pillow, tears running down his face. Blair looked so small and defenseless in the bed. His face was lax and he was unnaturally still - even in sleep he showed some animation. Leaning over, Jim pressed a tender kiss to his husband's dry lips and then sat down, resting a hand over his Guide's heart. Settling comfortably, Jim started stroking over and around the precious heart. 

"Oh, Chief," Jim whispered, "You sure scared the hell out of me. It's going to be ok, though, we're alive and you're gonna be just fine my love. Just promise me you'll never fall off a building again, ok? My heart can't take it. God, Chief, I thought you were dead. Simon had to hug me - I was going nuts. It's ok, though, you're alive and that's all I care about. Nothing else matters." 

"Mmph," Blair grunted and Jim wiped the tears away quickly, not wanting his husband to see him upset. 

"Sweetheart?" Jim begged, "Open your eyes?" 

Blair sighed and his eyes blinked open for a moment before closing firmly again. 

"No, lover, wake up. Please, Chief, open your eyes for me," Jim leaned over, kissing the eyes in question and then his husband's cheeks and lips. Deep blue eyes struggled to open and gazed at him blearily. Blair's lips moved beneath his and Jim kissed them again before leaning back and caressing Blair's face. 

"Hey there," Jim smiled, "You with me?" 

Blair nodded and swallowed, drawing a deeper breath and wincing as his bruised body protested. He shifted in response and moaned when new pains made themselves known. The small sound went straight to Jim's heart. 

"Stay still my love, you got pretty banged up," he clasped Blair's face in both hands, "Just focus on your breathing to control the pain. I'm here with you - you're safe. I love you Blair, with all my heart and soul." 

"Love you," the whisper would have been inaudible to anyone else, but the Sentinel heard it clearly. Jim's smile lit his whole face and he leaned in for another kiss, licking Blair's lips to wet them and nibbling tenderly against them. Blair sighed and smiled before giving in to the pull of sleep, turning his face to nuzzle into Jim's hand. The gesture tugged at his Sentinel's heart and Jim sat down again, tears once more tracking down his face. 

* * *

_Chapter Four - In which true colours are displayed._

Simon Banks was not a happy man. His best team was in hospital, one of them likely to be disqualified from fieldwork for life. They'd been outed as a couple by a careless doctor and then gossiped about by half their colleagues. To top it all off, the Chief and the Commissioner were breathing down his neck, the media was in frenzy and IA was dragging its feet. 

In the bullpen, Brown and Rafe had already gone toe to toe with three uniformed cops and one of their own over Jim's status as a gay man. Simon had had to break the argument up, afraid that Rafe was going to deck the man he was yelling at, and knowing that Brown definitely was about to get physical. Oddly enough, most people thought that Jim was forcing himself on Blair in an attempt to control the younger man. It was as if Blair was some innocent being corrupted by the former Army Ranger. 

Taggert had also bawled out a few people this morning. The tension was really getting to the older man and Simon knew why. He just hoped Taggert could keep a lid on it all - the last thing they needed was to have the Captain of the Bomb Squad suspended for assault. Everyone who could get away with it avoided Simon himself - popular belief being that he had known about the situation. Rafe and Brown, of course, knew that he had, but didn't care. The detectives had figured out the status of Jim and Blair's relationship long ago and discussed it between them. Neither man had seen any reason to treat the couple differently - deciding that what the two men did in the privacy of their own bedroom was their business. Jim would never endanger anyone in order to give Blair special treatment, and Sandburg was the same as always. 

The press had been camped outside the Central Precinct that morning when Simon arrived for work. He'd gone up the back stairs of the garage to avoid them and then taken the freight elevator to Major Crimes. A call to the front desk had confirmed that the press was there about the shooting of two of the PD's 'leading gay cops' and the fact that the desk sergeant thoroughly disapproved of Ellison and Sandburg's lifestyle. Simon had managed to locate some open-minded people and sent them to the hospital to guard Blair's room. 

The Chief had rung - he was under siege as well, something Simon was grateful for - and given Simon a dressing down for allowing a couple to work together. The Commissioner had done the same, with additional threats of an IA investigation added to sweeten the deal. Simon had shrugged it off, he'd been covering for the two men for so long that it just didn't matter any more. 

Then forensics had called. Cassie Welles had for once done her job and only her job, and gotten a preliminary result for Simon on the slugs they'd dug out of the fire escape and Blair. The gun involved was a semi automatic, and had nothing distinguishing about the caliber, make or model. She'd also told Simon that IA weren't too interested in her results and warned the Captain that she felt the investigation was being taken less than seriously. That little tidbit of information had turned Simon's already bad mood positively foul and he'd called IA to find out who was in charge of the shooting. 

It turned out that no one was yet investigating the crime - but someone would be assigned eventually. Simon had an ugly feeling that the tape of crooked cops from the 15th Precinct was about to be axed as well and had called Rafe and Brown in, assigning them to work the shooting and to locate Ellison's informant. Rhonda did that three minutes later when Dan Wolfe sent a message up that the man was lying in the morgue. Block had a distinctive tattoo that Blair had once described to the pathologist while they were at a scene and Dan had remembered the conversation. It looked like Jim's informant had been set up after he set Jim up. No one could find it in their hearts to be more than annoyed as another possible lead dried up. The irony didn't escape Simon that this was the sort of case his best team could have handled for him. 

The end of the day saw Rafe, Brown and Taggert in Simon's office, reporting a lack of solid leads and a frustrating lack of co-operation from their colleagues. 

"It's really split the whole PD, man," Brown shook his head in frustration, "Half are them are upset about the whole gay thing, and half again feel that Sandburg is being manipulated by Jim in some weird abusive relationship. The other half either don't give a shit about it or approve. It's totally weird out there." 

"The problem is that this whole thing is probably connected to the crooked cops that Jim and Blair caught," Joel sighed, "I have a friend of a friend in IA that says they're starting to sweep the whole damn mess under the carpet. Technically we can't use the tape in court because it's a violation of their civil rights, so once that's gone there's no case. And the thought of releasing a bunch of gang members because of an 'indiscretion'..." 

"What?" Simon yelled and Joel nodded. 

"That's what they called it, man," he sighed, "How can people be so stupid?" 

"So they're gonna use the whole gay thing as a distraction to sweep a bigger mess under the rug," Rafe curled his lip in disgust, "It's enough to make a man wonder why he still does the job." 

"Jim and I were talking about getting out - setting up our own business somewhere else," Simon sighed heavily, "We'd had enough of the politics. We were going to go somewhere warm with good fishing." 

"Oh yeah - the Security firm," Joel laughed, "And I say to you now what I said to you then - you'd miss it all so much you'd only last a week." 

"Last year that was true," Simon met Joel's eyes, "Now I'm not so sure, Joel. This thing is turning my stomach." 

"Mine too, man, but we can't throw the towel in yet. They need us here, now." 

"Well," Brown sighed, "If you're ever looking for a junior partner, I'm your man." 

"I can file and type," Rafe nodded and got up. His partner followed him from the room, both men heading for the lift. They'd check on the hospital before going home tonight - a short visit to reassure themselves their friends were ok. 

* * *

Simon looked at the two sleeping men and sighed. Jim was clutching his lover's hand in a tight grip that had to be cutting off the circulation in his fingers to say the very least. Blair's breathing was slow and shallow, though there was a little more color to his face that the last time Simon had seen the man. Simon put a hand gently on Blair's forearm, needing to see that the man was real. The nightmare vision of Blair hanging, broken and bleeding from the fire escape had stayed with the Captain last night. 

Blair's eyes opened and tracked to Simon's face slowly. Recognition lit them and the patient smiled gently, probably unwilling to risk larger movement and cause pain. Simon smiled too, and rubbed at the skin under his fingers lightly. For some reason he'd never been able to figure out, the men and women of Major Crimes liked to touch this man when he'd been hurt or sick - hell, even when he was healthy the people under Simon's command seemed to touch him. Blair's smile took on a soothed edge and he looked down at his still sleeping lover. Before Simon could do more than raise his free hand in protest Blair sighed. 

Jim's head came up at once, and the Sentinel grimaced when the muscles protested. 

"Blair?" he looked to his husband straight away, trying to determine why he was awake and if he was in pain. Blair sighed again and Jim bristled immediately in Simon's direction. Simon realized that what he was hearing as a sigh, were actually words to the Sentinel. The protective stance Jim took - trying to isolate Blair from the people who cared about him - was probably an instinctive one, though it could also be a by-product of the two men's marriage. Simon's theory about the sigh was proved when Blair sighed again and Jim stood down. He grimaced in apology to Simon, who nodded in response. 

"How you feeling, Sandburg?" Simon decided to act as if the consultant was his normal self. Blair smiled and sighed and the Sentinel translated. 

"The drugs are messing with him, but he doesn't want to feel the pain either. Hence the whole Jacques Cousteau thing he's got going here," Jim grinned at his lover, who rolled his eyes and looked back at Simon. This time the sigh was longer, and the cop was frowning at the end. He tightened his grip on the other man's hand even further and shook his head stubbornly. Blair's eyes opened fully and he glared at his life mate. 

"Whatever it is you're refusing to say or do, I'd give in, Jim," Simon sided with the Guide, guessing he'd just asked Simon to take his Sentinel home for a proper rest. Caught between two master class glares, Jim folded his arms stubbornly and then caved. 

"He wants me to go home and rest. I don't want to leave him defenseless," Jim argued, "He can't call for help - hell, even I can barely hear him." 

"Taggert has the day off - maybe he'd spend it here, and there's a man at the door, Jim. I'm sure Blair will be fine. Before you start worrying Sandburg, we still haven't caught the men who were shooting at you. Jim's under protection too. We think it might be tied up to the thing with the 15th Precinct. Don't be too concerned - you've got good people looking after you and Rafe and Brown and I are on the case full time," Simon briefed his consultant quickly, realizing that Jim had probably been concerned with other things when his lover woke. Blair nodded a little and sighed, which made Jim grin and sigh too. Simon sighed in exasperation and the two cops laughed at each other while Blair grinned. 

"I'll go call Taggert," Simon let himself out of the room. A glance back before he closed the door showed him Jim leaning over the prone man and caressing his face. The loving expression Jim wore told Simon all he needed to know. 

* * *

Jim leaned in and kissed his lover tenderly, using a light series of touches to cover the man's mouth and chin. Blair returned the pressure, watching Jim intensely as he did, trying to convey the love and concern he felt with that look. Moving was agony at the moment and taking a deep breath to speak loud enough to be heard was also painful. Blair had been shamelessly taking advantage of his lover's Sentinel hearing in order to avoid the pain, and Jim had been all too willing to be taken advantage of. 

"I love you," Jim buried his face in Blair's hair on the pillow, "Please, Chief. Don't make me leave." 

"Jim," Blair nuzzled the distraught man's hair, "I need you to rest. I need you to be ok. You aren't resting here - each time you wake up more exhausted. You're not ok." 

"I will be," Jim raised a begging face to his lover, "I'll be just fine, I promise." 

Blair gave him a tender smile and twitched his hand just enough to get Jim's attention. Jim took it immediately, holding it tenderly in his own and rubbing a thumb against Blair's skin. 

"I love you. I'm not leaving you. I will sleep until you return. Taggert will be here if I need anything," Blair's voice was the soothing cadence of the Guide tones, and he watched in satisfaction as Jim drifted into a slight zone under it's influence, as he had intended. A barely zoned Jim would be easier for Simon to manage. 

"It's time to go home, Jim. Get a shower, something to eat and then sleep. You can come back after you wake. Let me dream of you in our bed, safe and rested tonight," Blair's velvet voice caressed Jim when his hands were to weak to do it, "Safe in our territory, recovering to go hunting, Jim. Promise me you'll do that Beloved, promise me you'll take care of yourself." 

"I promise," the words slipped from Jim's lips almost without his conscious participation. Blair's smile lightened his face and he tugged with drug weakened fingers. Jim leant in to nuzzle into the crook of Blair's neck obediently and Blair began crooning soft words of love and comfort. The tension began to slowly drain from Jim's shoulders as the voice wove it's magic. 

The door to Blair's room opened and Simon looked in. Blair acknowledged him with a glance and Simon nodded before backing out again. He'd come back when Taggert arrived, giving the two lovers some much-needed time alone while they were both fairly coherent. Simon knew how much effort it took for Blair to calm his husband when he'd been hurt - the kid was usually wiped out by it. 

One cup of bad coffee later Joel joined him by the door. Simon knocked lightly before turning the handle, making Joel grin and duck his head. Jim was still bent with his face in Blair's hair, as they watched Blair sighed and Jim straightened obediently, kissing dry lips and turning slowly towards Simon. One look at the glazed eyes told Simon all he needed to know and he nodded to the man in the bed, before putting a hand in the small of Jim's back and walking him from the room. 

Jim was walking through the front door of the loft, Simon's hand under his good arm when he finally snapped out of it. Simon was ready - he'd been half expecting their home to have this impact on the Sentinel - and he caught Jim as his knees buckled for a moment. 

"Come on Ellison, lets get you upstairs," Simon grunted and Jim nodded, taking a deep breath and looking around with suddenly clear eyes. The stairs were hard work, and Simon was secretly relieved that there were no toys or other embarrassing paraphernalia around to indicate the two men's status. Jim's bedside table had very little clutter while Blair's was piled with books, notepads and a few pens. Jim slumped to the mattress with a tired little sound and Simon loosened his clothes and pulled the shoes off. After a moment he handed the pillow from Blair's side to Jim and then pulled the comforter over the sleeping man. 

"Damn he's good," Simon mumbled as Jim went straight to sleep, soothed by the latent scents. Even drugged to the gills and in a hospital bed on the other side of the city, Sandburg was able to Guide his husband. Simon went back down the stairs, checked that there was food available for when Jim woke up and that the phone was turned down. The answering machine was full of messages - probably from the press among others - and Simon turned it down too. He was on watch for Jim for the next twenty-four hours - something he'd organized with this eventuality in mind. Rafe and Brown knew to call if they made any progress and he would check his phone for messages regularly during the day. There would be a regular patrol outside the loft during the day and an extra unit tonight so Simon could get some sleep. He made up Blair's old bed in the spare room and looked around the small space. Blair was still a strong presence here - the bookshelves were still crammed with his texts and the desk littered with his work. Pictures of Jim and the men and women at the PD had been hung on the walls, and Simon found himself smiling at a shot of his son and the consultant, standing with their arms around each other. Making a mental note to call the teen some time tonight, Simon went back out into the other room. 

He browsed the bookshelf for something to read and settled down with a volume of 'protector' myths and legends. The book probably belonged to Blair and Simon leafed through it slowly, becoming immersed in the anthology from all over the world. As was to be expected, the Sentinel myth was in there and Simon chuckled at the autograph at the head of that chapter - 'Jim was here' in his detectives bold hand. This chapter was littered liberally with comments from Jim, all of them humorous. Blair had refuted one or two of the comments with scrawls of his own and Simon had to restrain himself from chuckling out loud. 

He took a break halfway through the book, making himself a sandwich and stepping outside for a cigar. There was still no sign of the press - obviously they'd not got wind of Jim's discharge and were still splitting their attention between the precinct and the hospital. His phone had no new messages and Simon sighed - progress was slow on the shooting as the PD aligned itself with one camp or the other. Throwing away the half smoked cigar - remembering to wrap it in plastic first so Jim's senses wouldn't be affected - Simon finished cleaning up the kitchen after his sandwich and went back to his book. 

He got to the end of the book after dinner. As Simon read the 'after word' he realized why reading this book was so familiar. He'd thought at first that the sense of dj vu came from listening to Sandburg's enthusiastic lectures on the subjects of tribal protectors. A small part of him had recognized that Sandburg was quoting this book once or twice as he read it and he'd been pleased to think he'd be able to quote back at the enthusiastic young man. Sandburg wasn't quoting something he'd read, however, he was quoting something he'd written - in the year since the doctorate too. What Simon had been reading was the first edition of an anthology that Sandburg had collected for his doctorate. Flipping to the dedication, Simon's heart swelled with pride. If anyone had ever wondered what Sandburg really thought of the cops he worked with they'd only need to flip to the front of this book. It was written in black and white for all to see: 

_For my very own set of tribal protectors - whose courage and dedication goes above and beyond. You are the heart and soul of our city. And with love for my Blessed Protector, who never leaves my side._

Simon put the book down carefully and leaned back on the couch to think. 

* * *

_Chapter Five - In which we finally see some action._

Four days after the shooting things began to speed up. Rafe managed to track down a few of Block's acquaintances and piece together what the informant had been doing over the last three days of his life. He had been blackmailed by Timothy Bowers into contacting Jim and setting up the meeting. Bowers was one of the men on the tape. He'd had access to the bullpen and managed to put together enough bogus information to make the meeting sound urgent for one of Jim's pending cases. 

Armed with that information, Brown started to look into the movements of Bowers and his partner Andrew Speake at about the time the informant had been killed. Using a snitch of his own, Brown managed to locate a man who'd bought a rifle from someone matching Speake's description. A word in Cassie's ear got the gun tested for ballistics and fingerprints. The new owner agreed to make a notarized statement in exchange for Brown working on a deal with the prosecutor's office over the illegal purchase. Brown decided to sit on the charges for the moment - not wanting to tip their quarry off. The rifle came back positive for Speake's fingerprints and the test firings matched the evidence from the sniper's attack on the rooftop. 

They now had solid evidence and a clear motive. Making back up copies of everything and securing those with the copy of the tape that had started the whole mess, Brown and Rafe presented their findings to Simon, who then took it straight to the Chief. The Chief was less than happy that Simon was ignoring due process and sent him on to Internal Affairs. Internal Affairs was unhappy as well. They didn't want to be reminded that they were supposed to be defending a gay cop and his lover from their own colleagues. The mini tape recorder that Simon was carrying in his pocket got a workout as he added the unenthusiastic response from IA to that of the Chief. 

Simon was ordered to butt out and informed that the protection for Sandburg and Ellison was being withdrawn 'due to lack of further hostilities'. Simon returned to Major Crimes in a rage and sent Brown and Rafe straight to the hospital to watch Jim's back while he finished documenting the day's lack of results for inclusion in Brown's safe. Speake and Bowers were on suspension pending investigation, but there were plenty of cops who were sympathetic to the pair and would think nothing of passing on the station gossip, or even slipping in to do them a favor. Not to mention the idea that they probably had accomplices who were still in hiding. 

Simon locked the evidence away in Taggert's office and went down to the garage to drive to the hospital. They were going to have to discuss what to do next. The way things were, Jim was going to find working at the PD very difficult - his lover's predictions about missing backup loomed on the horizon. Deep in thought, Simon missed the man standing behind his car. The first nightstick caught his wrist, making him drop the keys he was holding. 

Yelling in pain and anger, Simon turned towards his attacker, barely managing to deflect the second swing of the nightstick onto his shoulder and driving his fist into the other man's stomach. His attacker's breath came out in a rush, but before Simon could follow up on is advantage a second man hit him from behind. Pain exploded through his head and neck and Simon went down, barely feeling the other blows as they landed. He curled up as best he could and waited for the blows to stop. 

After a while someone found him beside his car and called an ambulance. The medics were gentle and spoke soothingly, handling the broken wrist and bruised ribs with respect. The ER was loud and brash, and the doctors spoke in clipped and hurried tones. Brown appeared for a minute and then Rafe, both looking disgusted. There was a couple of flashes, but by that time Simon was floating on the pain killers they'd given him and he didn't care any more. Eventually he was put into a dim and quiet room and Joel appeared, sitting in the chair beside him until Simon drifted off to sleep. 

By the time Simon woke, the painkillers had worn off and he was in no mood to be placated. Joel finally caved and got the doctor so Simon could get signed out of the hospital. Jim came down as the doctor left, muttering dire threats under his breath and searching in his pocket for a pen to get the paperwork started. 

"Simon," Jim sat down in Joel's chair, "We need to talk." 

"I was on my way to see you both when this happened, Jim. Give me a couple of hours to go home and change and check in with the station..." 

"That's what I want to talk to you about. I don't think you should go back to the station," Jim interrupted, "After they'd beat you nearly unconscious last night they wrote fag on you with a magic marker. Brown and Rafe took some pictures for evidence. They're pretty upset Simon, we all are. Did you see anything that would identify them?" 

"No," Simon whispered, horrified that his attackers had violated him like that, "Why the hell did they do that?" 

"We've always been pretty close, Simon. They've tarred you with our brush. I'm sorry, we never wanted any of this to happen," Jim couldn't meet Simon's eyes. Before the Captain could take a deep breath and get loud - not a smart thing to do with bruised ribs, really - Joel spoke up from the doorway. 

"Pack your bags, Simon. Jim's going on a guilt trip." 

The Bomb Squad's Captain's voice was dry and mocking. Jim's head snapped up, his pale eyes flashing fire. 

"This isn't funny, Joel! You think I want my friends beaten up for me? You think I wanted Blair maimed for life? We're through with the PD - he'll never recover enough to meet the physical requirements for the field and I can't do this without him. What are we supposed to do now, Joel? What am I supposed to do? I can't just switch all this off you know!" 

Joel was frowning at Jim in confusion and Simon sighed softly. Now was not the time for Jim to reveal the Sentinel to his colleagues, though he'd seriously suggest that to Ellison at a later date. Right now Simon had to control the damage his shouting detective was doing. 

"Jim," his soft voice shocked the detective to silence, "I know you never wanted this. I know you're through with the PD. I don't want you to switch it all off, and I'm pretty sure that Blair won't either...as for the rest of it, we'll work something out. Right now I'm ready to chuck it all in with the PD too. You have to trust us, you have to trust Sandburg. How is he today?" 

"He's been asleep," Jim's lips were trembling, "I haven't spoken to him since he sent me home. They said he started therapy and he was exhausted." 

That was the cause of their problem, then. Jim hadn't had his Guide fix today. He wouldn't disturb his husband's rest just for his own piece of mind, so they'd just have to suffer until Sandburg woke up. The door opened and a nurse appeared with the forms for Simon to complete and sign. Joel took them from her, realizing that Simon's writing hand was out of action for a little while. He grinned at his friend and sat down to start the whole thing off. Simon grinned back and avoided Jim's confused gaze. Under normal circumstances there was no real reason for Joel to have memorized Simon's details. 

"Go on back to Sandburg," Simon told his detective, "I'll go home and clean up, then I'll be right back ok? I'll stay away from the station for now." 

Jim nodded and got up. He still looked miserable and Joel watched him leave with a frown, which he then turned on Simon. The Captain of Major Crimes braced himself for a question that was sure to be fraught with complications. 

"What was that all about?" 

* * *

Sandburg was awake when Simon returned. He was aware and able to master the pain enough to speak loudly enough to be heard by non-Sentinel's. He was talking quietly to Jim when Joel and Simon arrived, though he broke off what they were discussing pretty quickly to ask Simon if he was all right and apologize for putting him in that situation. 

"Unless this is all some evil plot masterminded by you to get my arm broken, Sandburg, I don't think you should be apologizing," Simon retorted, settling into the chair that Joel was holding for him. The Bomb Squad Captain fussed for a moment and then sat down too. Blair acknowledged that this was not an evil plot of his own device, and Simon grinned at him. 

"I was actually on my way to see you both last night. Rafe and Brown are on their way now - we need to talk. Things are getting uglier by the minute and we're going to have to do some fancy stepping to come out of this on top," Simon looked over at Jim, who was clutching Blair's hand and looking miserable. Blair on the other hand looked to be on a fairly even keel, despite the pain and the uncertainty of his future. Of the two, it seemed that Jim was the one suffering the emotional backlash from this nightmare. Blair was the one holding it together - for now. Simon had no doubt that this would all hit the anthropologist eventually, and hit him hard. He prayed they'd be strong enough for Blair then. 

Rafe and Brown entered, carrying chairs and asking Simon and Blair how they were today. Both men were happy to see Sandburg coherent and able to reply to them, a marked improvement from the passive drugged out stranger they'd last spoken to. 

"We've added copies of the photo's from yesterday to the file, sir," Rafe had no trouble meeting Simon's eyes. His anger at what had been done to his boss and friend shone in his eyes, "IA is again dragging its feet, though." 

"We're in deep trouble, Captain. No one wants to know. The Chief is on the news denying that there's any trouble at the PD while the Commissioner is up there saying it's a difficult time for all of us. The Mayor has refused to make any comment whatsoever," Brown sighed, "We might not get the right result here." 

"That's what I wanted to talk to you all about," Simon nodded, "We may have to change our tactics here." 

"Before we talk tactics, Simon," Jim interrupted, sitting up straight, "I have to tell the guys something." 

Simon's eyes widened at that tone, and he glanced at Sandburg nervously. The Guide was looking back at him with calm equanimity and Simon shivered - they were united in what Jim was about to do. Even though Jim had said he had something to tell it was Blair who began. 

"I'm finished at the PD. My injuries are such that I'll never be able to meet the requirements of the PD for the field work," his voice was calm and matter of fact - accepting even. Jim rubbed his thumb along the back of Blair's knuckles, his expression resolute and tense. Brown and Rafe stirred in their chairs, but seemed to sense now was not the time to commiserate. 

"With Blair out of the field, so am I," Jim continued, "I wouldn't be happy to work without him in ordinary situations anyway, but now I need to be top of the game and I can't do that without his backup." 

"Babe, you know we'll back you to the hilt," Brown protested and Jim nodded. His face conveyed that he never doubted his friends and teammates for a moment. 

"Unfortunately, it's not just that I'm worried about," he replied, meeting his colleagues eyes, "The problem is that Blair does more than act as my cop partner. He's also my Guide and without him I run the very real risk of getting myself killed over something stupid like a reflection in a window." 

"A guide?" Rafe frowned, looking at Simon, "What..." 

"A Guide's duties are many and various," Jim sounded so much like his partner it was eerie, "He helps train me, and provides a safe environment for me to live in. He also helps me use my senses to their maximum potential and stops me from zoning." 

"Jim is a Sentinel. All five of his senses are heightened - basically he's a walking crime lab with organic equipment. I help him focus his abilities in the field. He uses me as a safety line so he doesn't get hurt. When he gets lost in one sense it's called a zone - kind of like a blackout. You've seen them happen in the field. He also gets spikes - where his senses go out of control and attack him. It's my job to control them for him until he recovers," Blair took over the tale flawlessly, "Without me backing Jim up the Sentinel has to be buried, and that would be like killing a part of his soul. We can't do that, so we're finished at the PD." 

"That explains why you always put him on desk duty when Sandburg's hurt," Joel said into the following silence, "I hate to ask this, but are you two a couple because of this thing?" 

"No," Blair's response was immediate, "We love each other as Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg, not as Sentinel and Guide, though that part of our life shares a very close bond. The problem is that the Sentinel's instincts are very strong in certain situations. Jim's choice of career has been influenced by his Sentinel's need to protect. And when the Guide is injured that also pushes a lot of buttons." 

"Yeah, when you're in trouble Ellison's a bear," Rafe agreed, grinning at them, "And it goes both ways, right?" 

"Yeah," Jim smiled a little, "You should see him in mother hen mode - he's ten times worse than I am." 

"Is that possible?" Joel snorted and Simon laughed. Brown looked over at him with understanding dawning on his face. 

"You knew, didn't you?" Brown asked his boss quietly, "You knew about this, so you kept overlooking the ride along pass." 

"They needed help with keeping it quiet - can you imagine the media frenzy if this came out? And they needed someone who could...substitute for Sandburg in an emergency. Originally Jim and I thought this would be a temporary thing - he'd get control and Sandburg would go on his way. But their partnership in the field was so solid and Jim just kept on learning new things..." Simon shrugged. He also had come to admire and respect Sandburg's courage and intelligence, but they'd need to drag that confession out of him. 

"So..." Jim shifted nervously, looking for some sign as to how his colleagues were taking all this. Rafe and Brown looked over at each other for a long moment and Joel got up to lean over and shake first Blair and then Jim's hand. 

"So, instead of planning this like you're coming back, Jim, we need to plan this to set you guys up for leaving. We'll miss you in the pen, Hairboy. Ellison, not so much," Brown grinned at his friends and shook hands as well, followed by a laughing Rafe. 

"There's more to it than that," Joel looked over at Simon, "Simon and I are thinking of quitting too." 

"What?" 

"Joel, you're kidding!" 

"Why on earth..." 

"We discussed it on the way back from Simon's place this morning," Joel sighed, "Neither one of us wants to work in an environment where corruption and homophobia are more influential than justice. That sounds a bit pompous, I know, but..." 

Sandburg was grinning at Joel, understanding in his eyes. Simon realized that Blair had figured it all out and looked over at Ellison and his men. They'd been so accepting of the Sentinel thing, and the gay thing before that. 

"Joel and I have been together for a couple of years," Simon said it quietly, "Neither of us thought that coming out at the station was a viable option. I guess we were right, huh?" 

* * *

The silence was deafening. Jim's face was surprised - he'd never picked up any of the scents on his boss and co-worker that would indicate intimacy, and then realized that they were probably showering separately as they still lived in separate houses. He lived and showered with his husband, entwining their scents irrevocably to a Sentinel. 

"I see," Rafe took a deep breath, and then ran out of things to say. His partner stirred and looked over at the two Captains. He'd never suspected it from their behavior, though he knew they were tight. Somehow, Jim and Blair just seemed to be a more likely couple - probably because they touched so much in public. The problem was conveying to his boss that he could care less what the man did in his own time, and getting his partner to back him up. Brown knew Rafe was not a homophobe - neither man had been bothered by the Sandburg-Ellison partnership, so that was not a factor. 

"Well, hell," he grinned after a moment, "It must be something in the water." 

Rafe snorted and rolled his eyes, elbowing his partner in the ribs and shaking his head. It was a familiar saying that invited the famous Rafe-Brown comedy routine. 

"Smooth, babe. Real smooth," Rafe teased and Brown growled back, opening his mouth to retort. Jim interrupted him with a chuckle and a roll of the eyes. 

"Are you two ever gonna grow up? I thought Sandburg was the eternal child of this team." 

"Hey!" Blair's protest was soft, "Leave me out of this!" 

"Oh no," Joel spoke up, his voice smiling as wide as his face, "You're a part of this team." 

"Yep, you're stuck now, Sandburg," Simon grinned at the pale man, who grinned back. Jim took his hand tenderly and rubbed the knuckles with his thumb. 

"Ok, so we plan like the four of you aren't coming back," Rafe sighed softly. 

"Five," Brown spoke up. There was a second silence and then Rafe nodded too. The corruption at the PD wasn't going to be overcome by one case, and Rafe didn't have the stomach for concealing his thoughts and opinions from the people who were supposed to be his friends. 

"Six," he declared, "You and Ellison still looking for junior partners, sir? I can still file and type." 

"And me," Brown nodded, "We've been a smooth team for so long we can't just break it up now. What do you say, Jim? Ready to start your own business?" 

"Yeah," Jim nodded and looked at his partner's astonished eyes, "Yeah, we are. You in Simon? Joel?" 

"We're in," Simon reached over and took Joel's hand a little defiantly while the other man nodded solemnly, "We're in." 

* * *

_Chapter Six - The end of an era._

Blair had fallen asleep not long after their tentative declarations. When Simon had made noises about deferring the discussion for another time, Jim had shaken his head. 

"He'll sleep through any noise we make, Simon," the Sentinel sighed, "The drugs aren't fully out of his system and he had another therapy session just before you all arrived. He's too exhausted to stir now." 

"If you're sure, babe," Brown frowned, and Simon gave in. He didn't want to put this off any longer - the whole mess was a nightmare he just wanted to wake up from. 

"Ok," Simon sighed, "We have the evidence on the shooters and on IA as well. I've also got the Chief on tape washing his hands of the whole mess. Now we need to decide what to do with it. With Sandburg out of commission permanently we need to make sure the PD coughs up enough to cover his therapy and the next couple of years living expenses." 

"We also need them to cover you, Simon. What they did to you needs to be redressed," Jim said firmly, "No one deserves that." 

"He's right Simon," Joel nodded, "What if they'd done more damage than that?" 

The tight grip of his lover's hand convinced Simon not to argue. They'd admitted their love for each other after a lifetime of hetro sex. That had made their relationship difficult, one they had to work hard on. The added frustration of watching Jim Ellison deny his love for Blair Sandburg had almost been too hard to bear, but in the end had been kind of enabling. They knew what not to do by watching Jim do it - not that they'd ever say so to the other man. They wanted to grow old together after all. 

"Ok," he agreed reluctantly, "But we need to make Sandburg the main issue here. As I see it we've got a couple of options. We can try to sort this out using the official channels - something that will probably win us some brownie points along the way, or we can get ourselves a lawyer and go after the PD with swords drawn." 

"The media will probably favor option two," Rafe mused, "They could actually be of use here - there's been a lot of sympathetic reports out there for Sandburg and Ellison. I guess you guys make the news so often they like you." 

"Yuck," Jim shuddered, "I can do without those kind of friends. No media - ok?" 

"Besides," Brown spoke up, "Trying to manipulate the media can backfire, especially if we go for the lawyer. They could say we were trying to extort money from them or something. Better to leave the media out of it as much as possible. If they're chasing us for the story then that's different." 

"H is right," Simon nodded, "We're better off not trying to use the media at all." 

There was silence for a moment, as everyone contemplated the options before them and the best way to achieve their goals. Then Simon spoke again. 

"I don't think that following due process is going to get us there," Simon sighed, "The Chief and the Commissioner are on obviously different pages of the play book here, and if we go to the Commissioner over the Chief's head we'll earn ourselves some nasty enemies. The lawyer may be the best way to go." 

"Has anyone got a lawyer in mind?" Joel asked, "Any contacts?" 

"There's Candy Sloane," Rafe pointed out, "She's a prominent gay activist in town. She's already called the bullpen a couple of times." 

"And she was on the answering machine at home," Jim nodded, "I don't know if I want to emphasize the gay part of out relationship. They came after us because they were crooked cops, not because we were gay. Let's not lose sight of the 15th Precinct here. I want a piece of those bastards." 

"I'm in line for that," Brown nodded. Rafe put a hand up solemnly too. 

"So, who we gonna call?" Joel broke the tension with the familiar movie quote and Jim groaned in light protest. Blair twitched in the bed, struggling to open his eyes, mumbling his husband's name in response to the sound. 

"I'm sorry, hush love. Shh, Chief, it's ok. No one's in trouble," Jim was on his feet in an instant, leaning over to caress and soothe and kiss lightly. The anthropologist settled with a vague sigh and a mumble as the others watched. They waited for the Sentinel to be sure his Guide was once again asleep. 

"I thought he couldn't hear us?" Simon frowned, "Should we adjourn somewhere else?" 

"No, it was the groan. I guess he's keeping a watch on me," Jim's face was troubled, "It's ok. If we leave now he will wake up." 

Rafe decided to change the subject before Ellison really got upset. That would wake the sleeping man and embarrass the detective. 

"You know, my cousin had problems at his workplace last year. His lawyer was pretty good," he gave his partner the high sign and Brown, bless him, acted right away. 

"The one who got fired because he couldn't come to work?" Brown asked the leading question, watching Simon and Joel out of the corner of his eye. 

"Yeah," Rafe nodded, and looked at his boss, "He broke his leg skiing and couldn't get into the office because there was no wheelchair access. His bosses wouldn't let him work from home, and they weren't willing to extend his sick leave. They said if he didn't come in he'd lose his job, and so he got a lawyer to help him out. They got a good settlement out of the firm and he got another job elsewhere with no blot on his record." 

"Are these lawyers specialists in that kind of thing? We're not just looking at discrimination here - there's criminal charges pending as well," Simon mentioned, "We want action on the whole mess, including the siege at the 15th." 

"I'll call him and find out," Rafe promised, and Simon nodded. For now it was the best they could do. 

* * *

Things moved quickly after that. Despite their lawyer's advice, the men from Major Crimes got in touch with the Commissioner and handed in their resignations quietly, though Rafe and Brown held off on doing that in order to be 'in the loop' at the station for as long as possible. Using the forewarning the Commissioner attempted to pressure an outcome on the 15th Precinct mess and the subsequent shooting. 

The Chief resisted and the lawyer went ahead and served notice of the upcoming legal battle. That produced a face-saving attempt from IA to discover who the shooters were, but as Rafe and Brown had already tried to close that particular case the courts were not impressed. 

Meanwhile, the media was going wild and besieged the PD and the hospital where Blair and his lover were still sequestered. The headlines screamed about the sterling records of 'Cop of the Year' and the 'Top Profiler in Washington State' - a title that made Blair laugh when he read it. 

That was the only laugh Blair had for a while. The therapy was painful and frustrating. Being confined to bed was even worse as he struggled to come to terms with his injuries and what they would mean to their lives. Jim was trying to out stubborn him - refusing to admit that Blair would no longer be able to keep up with him in the field. So far it was working, as Blair tried harder to overcome the injuries. Jim's arm had long since healed by the time his husband was out of traction and up on crutches, his right leg encased in a rigid cast. It hurt Jim to see his lover struggle and grimace as they worked in the Physical Therapy suites, but it would have hurt more to bury the man. 

While this was going on, Simon and Joel were scouting for area's where the security business - a hybrid between a consulting agency and private investigators - would flourish. They needed a city where the profession would have enough potential business and not too much competition - no one wanted to be stuck on a shoe string operation because there was a glut on the market. Simon kept Jim's senses in mind as they searched, not wanting to expose Jim to too much stimuli. He'd been unable to spend any time alone with Blair to discuss this problem as Jim never left his lovers side. 

Since revealing the Sentinel to his colleagues, Jim had stuck close to his Guide's side. In one way he was relieved to tell the men he respected so much about his abilities - he was tired of lying and covering them up. At the same time, Jim was nervous that the old label of 'freak' would be applied to him - that his friends would treat him differently, even be afraid of him. Blair knew that they wouldn't - after all, they'd accepted that Jim and Blair were a loving couple who reveled in each other's presence - but he was unable to persuade his lover. Time would prove to Jim what Blair's loving words could not. 

The lawsuit was proceeding apace. In an almost unprecedented move the Chrysanthemum's also hired a lawyer and pressed for damages against the 15th Precinct as well. With the PD under so much pressure, the Mayor decided to jump in, siding with the Commissioner in his effort to be seen to do the right thing. Joel and Simon finalized the details of the new company at the same time as the lawyer finalized the settling of their case. Rafe and Brown resigned on the spot - setting off another round of media speculation and sensation - and joined their colleagues at Blair's bedside to hear the final details. 

As the main injured party of the settlement, Blair was awarded a massive ten million-dollar settlement. The PD would also cover his medical bills while he was in Cascade. Jim was awarded five million and Simon two, in an effort to make restitution for their own suffering. Rafe and Brown both came in for a tidy sum as a part of their severance pay, on the understanding that they wouldn't later sue the PD for damages. Joel was also awarded a fair amount. Blair was astonished at the amount of money, but Jim was less than impressed. 

"As if it can make up for the pain you'll feel the rest of your life," he fumed, burying his face in Blair's armpit. If Blair made a reply it was too soft for the others to hear it. The lawyer took that as his cue to leave, shaking hands and doing the whole lawyer thing on his way out. 

"It's the end of an era," Blair sighed, looking at his friends, "With you guys gone, Major Crimes will be empty." 

"Hey!" Simon defended his former unit, "There are some good detectives in there!" 

"Yeah, but if a truly weird case comes along, who gets it?" Blair grinned, "Ellison and Sandburg. And if we're already involved, who is next in the line? Brown and Rafe. Between the four of us, we're your best team, Simon. And if we're out of action you were usually there to push things along with Joel." 

"True," Simon grumbled, "But it's not our problem now. We've got things to do - packing and moving and setting up the new office, among other things." 

"Where is the new office?" Blair asked - he'd been too involved with his therapy to be interested in outside details. Simon gestured to the head buried in the injured man's armpit. 

"Jim can tell you," the tall man stood, "Joel and I have to get going - we're having Daryl over tonight for the talk..." 

"You'll be fine," Blair said immediately, "Daryl's got a level head on him." 

"And we're going too," Brown and Rafe got up, "A last night on the town before packing tomorrow. You and Jim will be the last one's in Cascade." 

"Don't forget to turn the lights off on your way out," Rafe joked and Blair nodded. He watched his friends leave with a smile, trying not to show them how sad he was that their lives were being changed this way. Once the door closed he turned his attention to the man burrowing into his armpit. 

* * *

"Hey, babe, you ok?" the loving tones ran through Jim with a shudder, and a hand came up to caress the back of his head tenderly. Jim reveled in his husbands scent for a moment longer and then lifted his face out of the warm cavern. 

"Sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to go all Blessed Protector on you." 

"Part of the territory," Blair whispered back, "I'm getting used to it." 

"You sassing me, boy?" Jim grinned, and shifted so his arm was across Blair's chest and his other hand rested on Blair's biceps. 

"Yep," Blair grinned back, pleased to have broken the chain of that particular mood, "So, where are we going when we leave Cascade?" 

"Well," Jim grinned, "Simon's found us this old fire station. We can pretty much buy it outright if we all put in, and it's perfect. We'll leave the vehicle bay as it is on the first floor, use the offices already there on the second floor and divide the third and fourth into apartments for us all. I know that stairs are going to be hard for you right now, but there's actually one of those little two person lift's installed - probably for cargo and stuff like that, but we checked it out, it's perfectly safe and we'll keep the maintenance up on it. I've seen the pictures Simon brought back and it's perfect Chief. Our place is on the top floor - it's all glass and open space with access to the roof. Simon and Joel will be next door to us and Rafe and Brown have the third floor flats. Because the place is designed as a barracks we won't have to worry too much about redoing the interior. It all needs work, of course, and they're going to get the office side of things set up first so they can start putting in tender's for jobs. The idea is to let Simon and Joel run the office and set the field assignments while Rafe and Brown and you and I do the fieldwork. Simon wants you to keep up the profiler thing, though - he got the Commissioner to put a word in for us with the local PD. If you're profiling for them it gives us an in with the PD, and lets you use your skills." 

"Breathe, Jim," Blair laughed, brushing his fingers over Jim's lips and feeling his heart skip a beat when his lover suckled on the teasing fingers for a moment. Although the drugs in his system would probably prevent him from getting a hard on, it didn't prevent him from wanting and desiring his husband. 

"Sounds perfect," Blair caught his breath, "Now all you have to tell me is where we're going." 

"Chicago," Jim watched Blair frown a little, "Babe?" 

"Let me get this straight," Blair sighed, "We're trading in one cold and wet city for a cold wet and windy city? Why did I marry you?" 

"Chief..." Jim whispered, his face crumbling in worry, "I didn't..." 

"I guess you'll just have to keep me warm with lots of hot sex," Blair whispered, smiling a little and Jim sagged in relief, realizing he was being teased. Blair's hand tangled in his shirtfront and tugged him closer, until their lips were brushing. 

"Want to give me a preview?" his husbands whispered and Jim sighed, leaning forward to take the soft lips, letting his tongue stroke along them and then inside for a sweet taste that stole his breath. When they came up for air Jim was breathing hard and his face was flushed. 

"Lock the door and get me a towel," Blair let go of Jim's shirt and pushed gently, rocking the Sentinel away from him. Jim hurried to do as he was told while Blair moved himself over carefully in the bed, grunting a little in effort. He watched his husband come back towards him and smiled. 

"Take off your shoes," Blair took the offered towel as Jim toed his shoes off and then gingerly got up onto the bed. Lying on his side with and arm across Blair's chest and one leg cautiously nudging between the cast and his husbands thigh, Jim tried to appear comfortable. Blair was not deceived. 

"I won't break, sweetheart," he crooned, "Lean on me." 

He positioned his husband with demanding little tugs and pulls, positioning himself so his hand and the towel were trapped between their bodies and his free hand could cradle Jim's head tenderly. Letting his trapped hand lie quiescent on the mattress, Blair took Jim's mouth in a tender kiss. 

They sighed together and smiled, kissing slow and deep, letting tongues tangle and stroke while their lips caressed. The intimate taste and scent of Blair, combined with the heat from the smaller body had Jim's skin tingling and flushing in arousal. His cock swelled in his need and he pushed his hips down onto Blair's hand, whimpering a little as he did. Blair's chuckle traveled from Jim's lips to his cock and the trapped hand nimbly undid the too tight jeans and eased inside straining briefs to stroke the hot flesh. 

Jim broke the kiss with a tiny cry and muffled his face in Blair's neck, struggling to stay still and not jostle the other man in the bed. Blair's lips kissed his hair lightly while knowing fingers traveled up and down Jim's erection, touching him just the way he liked it. The tender caresses brought tears to Jim's eyes and he made an urgent sound in Blair's neck, pushing down to get more of the needed contact. 

"Lift up baby. I'm gonna make you feel so good..." the promise had Jim lifting his hips eagerly. Blair pushed the jeans and briefs down carefully before spreading the folds of the towel to cover his hip and Jim's groin. A light pressure guided Jim back into place and the Sentinel went eagerly. Blair wouldn't be able to penetrate his lover like this - reach was a difficulty - but they'd been apart for so long that it wouldn't take long for his Sentinel to come. Jim moaned as Blair started to stroke and squeeze again, adopting a tender rhythm that would ease him to climax. 

"That's it, Beloved," Blair whispered hotly, "So beautiful and tender. My sexy man." 

Jim was thrusting now, small movements of the hips accompanied by growls and purrs as the cat in him came out to play, He could scent Blair's own desire for him but was unable to marshal the co ordination to find his lover's cock and stroke it as well. His noises became more urgent as he panted and strained towards climax, trying to get the maddening fingers to speed up and just take him. 

"Shh, my love. You're so ready for this, aren't you," Blair kissed the nodding head lightly, "Are you ready? Will you fall for me? Just relax sweetheart and let it go. Come for me, my beautiful sexy boy." 

"Oh, oh!" Jim gasped and kissed the skin his face was buried in as his come spurted over the massaging hand and the waiting towel. He shuddered and shook, then collapsed limply, gasping for breath as his body struggled to recover. 

"Good boy," Blair's loving voice was the last thing he heard as he headed for sleep. 

* * *

End Wants by Shedoc: that_gal@btopenworld.com

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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